


Stay With Me

by kanasukii



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, Modern Day, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, billy is a good boyfriend, give that boy a hug, poor steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-16 05:02:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13047024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanasukii/pseuds/kanasukii
Summary: It's almost like the blade is whispering to him, saying things along the lines of "You know you want to do it." and "C'mon Steve, just get it over with already, you worthless piece of shit." Before he realizes it, tears are slipping down his face and he's breathing way too fast.(modern day Harringrove)





	1. Blood in the Bathwater

**Author's Note:**

> Umm so yes this is going to be really sad, and also trigger warning for the suicide attempt

  The bath tub is too full, but Steve can't bring himself to care. He's too focused on finding the sharpest edge of the tiny blade in his hands. The light glints off of it in a harsh, unforgiving way. He swishes his leg around in the too-hot water. He tilts his head back and stares at the flourescent lights. He notices it's too quiet in the house, but that's a good sign. Billy isn't home.

  He sighs and closes his eyes, rubs his temple. He's such a fucking pussy, but he doesn't see any other way out. He can't sleep and he doesn't eat. Even though he trust Billy more than anyone else in the world, he still can't tell him what's wrong. He doesn't know how to explain it, the terrors he sees when he closes his eyes and the beasts he feels breathing down his neck in the dead of night. Part of his brain is screaming that it isn't real, but he just ignores it, isn't even really aware that it's there. 

  He lays eyes on the small cactus on top of the toilet tank. It's about three months old and is currently living in a baby blue pot. Steve remembers it as the anniversary cactus Billy had given him. He focuses back to the bathtub, notices that the water is cooling down. He should probably get this over with. He casts a glance a the shiny metal in his hand again.

  It's almost like the blade is whispering to him, saying things along the lines of  _"You know you want to do it."_ and  _"C'mon Steve, just get it over with already, you worthless piece of shit."_ Before he realizes it, tears are slipping down his face and he's breathing way too fast. He presses the blade to his wrist too hard and slides it across, slicing open the vein. He hisses and tosses his head back, thudding it against the plastic wall.

  The water is turning red at an alarmingly fast rate, and with shaky hands, he repeats the motion on his opposite arm. He tosses the blade outside of the tub weakly and lets his hand hang over the side. Steve can feel the warm blood dripping down his hand and his fingertips. He can't bring himself to give two shits about the pale gray bath mat he's probably ruining. The cuts sting, both exposed to either the cool air or the water. it's kind of funny, he thinks. IT doesn;t hurt nearly as much as he thought it would. Maybe that's because he views what's currently happening as more of a relief.

  Too concentrated on the feeling of the blood coming out of him, he doesn't hear their back door open and close. He doesn't hear Billy drop his bag in the kitchen, and he doesn't hear Billy's heavy footsteps as he calls out his name. He doesn't hear him because he's unconscious.

  "Steve?" Billy calls out, thinking that the house is awfully quiet. He calls Steve's name again, worried that Steve might be holed up somewhere in the middle of a panic attack. He walks into their bedroom too fast and rips back the covers. He officially starts to panic when Steve doesn't respond. He steps out into the foyer and notices their bathroom door is closed. An overwhelming feeling of dread settles itself deep in the pit of Billy's stomach, and he's almost afraid to open the door, for fear of what he might find. He does it anyway.

  Something close to a horrified scream comes out of his mouth and he's by the tub in seconds. He's yelling for Steve to wake up, and he's frantically feeling for a pulse. Billy's hyperventilating now, searching for his phone. He types 911 in and tries to calm himself down.

   _"911, what is your emergency?"_

Billy pats Steve's cheek, trying to wake him up. "My boyfriend just, uh, tried to kill himself, he's still breathing but he's unconscious and it's really shallow and Jesus Christ I need an ambulance now," he says in one jumbled rush. The operator asks for his address, and he gives it to her. She doesn't know when the ambulance will be there. Billy hangs up. He eventually manages to pull Steve out of the tub and he tries to dry him off as best he can. Steve is still bleeding, but it's less than before he's still breathing. He's back in less than a minute and pulls Steve into his lap. He's rocking them back and forth, and pressing a towel to each of his wrists in thirty second bursts, trying to stem the bleeding. He went too deep, Billy thinks. The ambulance is finally there, and Billy is ushering them towards Steve.

  A female nurse squats down and immediately begins to wrap Steve's wrists in some kind of thick cloth. She's telling whoever's on the other line that they need a stretcher, but that Steve is still breathing. A cop shows up and pulls Billy aside. He can't stop looking at the bathroom and touching his hair.

  "What's his name and date of birth?" the cop asks.

  "Steve Harrington, and fuck, uh, March eighteenth, nineteen ninety-three." The cop nods and writes it down. 

  "They'll question you more at the hospital. This is all they need for now, though." Billy nods and whips around when he feels someone tap his shoulder. 

  It's the girl again. "Are you riding in the ambulance or are you going to follow us?" she asks. Billy considers riding in the ambulance, but he really doesn't want to call someone to pick him up.

  "I'll follow," he says.


	2. Fluorescent Lights

  Billy bounces his knee nervously, and he's twisting his hands over and over again. He figures he resembles some kind of nervous madman, although that's kind of what he is right now. After all, his boyfriend did just try to kill himself. He wants to go find coffee, but he's afraid of what might happen if Steve were to wake up alone. He checks his phone, and realizes he's been here for five hours. Christ.

  Beside him, Steve stirs. It's quiet and barely there, but it happens, and Billy sees it. He's out of his chair and bent over Steve almost immediately.

  "Baby?" he asks softly, and Steve's eyes flutter open. There is a kind of tiredness and sadness that Billy doesn't think he's ever seen in someone before. It shouldn't be there, on Steve's face, as readable as a children's book.

  "Where am I?" Steve asks quietly. He seems like he knows, but wants the confirmation.

  "We're at the hospital," Billy replies. Steve nods, and looks like he wants to go back to sleep. He turns over on his side and waves Billy back to his chair.

  Billy figures he should call the doctor, just to let him know that Steve hasn't put himself into some kind of irreversible coma or some shit. He tells Steve that he'll be right back and finds the nearest desk, telling the nurses that they needed Dr. What's-His-Face down in Room 513.

  Billy practically ran back to the room, some part of him fearing that Steve might have done something stupid, like thrown himself out the window. When he gets back, though, Steve is still laying on his side, a lost look in his eyes. Billy figures he's just in his own head right now and that the best thing he can do is be there for his boyfriend.

  "Why did you call 911?"

  The question is soft and quiet, but Billy pretends he didn't hear it. Instead, he fiddles with his zipper, wishing the doctor would walk in.

  "Billy?" Shit. He has to answer him now.

  "Huh?" he asks, pretending he needs Steve to repeat his question. He doesn't need to, but he really doesn't want to have this conversation right now. 

  Steve asks again and Billy lets out a heavy sigh. He needs a cigarette. "I called 911 because you were bleeding out on the bathroom floor. Why do you think I did it? For shits and giggles?" he can't help it, but there's a nasty edge to his voice that he couldn't quite hold back. He almost regrets saying it like that, given the look on Steve's face, but the doctor walks in. Thank God.

  "Ahh, Steve! You're awake, wonderful! Alright, bud, I have to go over a few things with you, and then we have somebody we need you to talk to. That sound good?" The doctor asks, and Steve shrugs.

  "It's whatever, I guess." Billy grimaces and plops down tiredly in the unusually comfy chair.

  "So, right now, you're on something that is sort of a suicide watch. Really, I should have a nurse in here or at least popping in every few minutes, but you haven't ripped out your IV's in a burst of anger, so I'm not sure if that's necessary. Plus, your friend is here and you're surprisingly calm. Anyway, you cut yourself pretty deep, and both of your wrists," he pauses, and gestures to thick wrapping around Steve's wrists, "have stitches. You can come back in a few weeks to get them out as long as you're healing up okay." Steve nods, but he doesn't look like he's retained any of what was just said.

  Someone knocks on the door and pushes it open. It's a girl, a short one at that. "Mr. Harrington?"

  "That would be me," he says tiredly, with a half-hearted wave. The doctor says a few things to her and offers a smile to Steve before he takes his leave, closing the door softly behind him.

  She has soft, doe eyes. She kind of reminds Billy of Nancy. Hmm. Maybe he should give her a call and tell her what's up. "Alright, Steve. I'm Dr. Nells, and I'm a psych who works at the hospital. Essentially, I have to ask you a bunch of questions, you answer, and we go from there. How's that sound?" Steve shrugs, but avoids eye contact. It's clear that he doesn't want to talk to this woman, and Billy feels like sweeping him up and taking him home.

  "Hmm, ahh, here. Alright. Have you ever had a history of depression or suicidal thoughts?"

  "No," Steve replies, sounding dull. Dr. Nells turns to look at him and asks him to leave. He looks over at Steve, but Steve is still focused on burning the hand sanitizer with his eyes. Billy sighs and leaves, decides it's time for a cigarette.

  "I asked him to leave so th-"

  "So I would answer the questions honestly. Yeah, I know. Anyway, I've never been diagnosed with depression, or anxiety, or any of that shit. I don't want to be checked in to a mental hospital with a bunch of fucking loons. I want to go home, and go to sleep," Steve says, anger rising with every word. Maybe he should've told the doc to let Billy stay.

  She nods understandingly and pats his arm. "I know, honey, but you have to stay here until you're cleared for discharge. And I don't think that's happening tonight."

  Steve huffs and closes his eyes. He's trying not to be mad at her, she's only trying to help. He honestly just wants Billy back in the room. Dr. Nells continues her questioning. Steve answers her with one word response, not really listening or analyzing the questions she's asking. He knows, though, somewhere in the back of his mind that he's just giving her the necessary responses that will keep him out of a psych ward. Part of him figures that maybe he does actually need to go to the hospital and hang out with a bunch of deranged people, but then he thinks that he'd like to be cuddled up with Billy at home, watching TLC, thank you very much.

 Instead, he lets her interrogate him for what feels like hours. Billy finally walks back in, looking more than irritated. Steve can tell he wants her to leave. 

 “Could you come back later?” he musters up the courage to ask, and she looks surprised. She gives him a confused sort of nod, a pitying smile, a pat on the shoulder, and she leaves. Billy huffs. 

 “Took her long enough.”

 Steve hums in response. He just wants to go to sleep. Both of them are silent for a few minutes, each in their own heads.

 “Hey, listen,” Billy says suddenly and Steve turns to meet his eyes for the first time since that morning, “I’m not mad at you, if that’s why you’re not talking to me.”

 “I know.”

 Billy sighs. He won’t get anywhere with Steve tonight. He toes his boots off and throws them in the corner, startling Steve. "I'm going to sleep. Wake me up if you need anything." It's short and curt, but Billy knows that Steve doesn't want to be talked to like he's five years old. Steve nods, and that's the only affirmation Billy needs before he's out like a light.

 

 


	3. Home, But Not Really

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I was sick when I wrote this so it's probably not very good but I promise to make it up in the next chapter :,) (I'm serious this chapter is straight up garbage and I can't think straight)

  The next three days fly by, but they drag at the same time. Billy is almost sure he has the pattern of the tile floor memorized. Steve is sleeping again, and the dark circles seem like they're here to stay. Billy yawns and runs a hand down his face, feeling the prickly stubble on his unshaven face. Someone knocks at the door, and Billy is thankful for the distraction.

  "Good news!" 

  It's the doctor, and he's too loud. Steve looks like he wants to kill him.

  "Oh, did I wake you up? I'm sorry," he apologizes, "Anyway, you are free to go. All we have to is grab your discharge papers, have you sign some stuff, and you can leave." Steve nods and looks relieved.

  "How long will it be until you guys have the papers?" Steve asks. The doctor pulls up some papers on his clipboard and says that Danielle will have them to Steve within the next fifteen minutes. Steve thanks him, and he leaves. They sit in silence for a while until Steve clears his throat.

  "Did you drive the Camaro?"

  Billy raises an eyebrow. "Well, yeah. I wasn't gonna drive your car. Mine is way cooler." 

  Steve huffs and flips him off. "Yours might be cooler, but at least I can fit a packing box into mine," he retorts, referring to the last time they were at Walmart and had to buy boxes to help Nancy and Jonathon move into their apartment. "They wouldn't even fit in the trunk! We had to fold them up so they would go in the back."

  "Fine, fine. Yours might be bigger and more practical, but mine is cooler and that's all that matters." Steve is smiling now, and a small part of Billy feels like he's just won.

  "Please, what justifies your car as cooler? The fact that it's blue? Or the fact that it's from nineteen-fucking-seventy-nine?"

  Billy laughs, "Both, dumbass," and tosses his phone charger at Steve. and he makes a weak attempt to deflect it. They're both laughing now, and it feels like a heavy weight off of their shoulders. Billy knows that he'll have to have a number of serious conversations with Steve later, but for now, he's fine with laughing. The nurse walks in suddenly, and she's holding a bundle of papers.

  "Alrighty Mr. Harrington, here are your papers. All you need to do is sign that top sheet and you're free to go!" Steve throws her a thankful smile and takes the papers, signing them quickly. He looks agitated when his bandages prevent him from writing as efficiently as he would like, and Billy frowns. He zones out while Steve and Danielle speak, and he's brought back when Steve is out of the bed and poking his knee.

  "Hey, get up. I wanna leave."

  "Damn, chill out, gimme a minute," he says with a smile. Steve slides on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that Billy had brought when he went home for a phone charger and to shower. Billy gathers all of his stuff from the last three days, stands up, and stretches. "Ready to bounce?"

  Steve smiles and lets Billy lead the way. Steve shivers against the brisk wind and it's only then that Billy notices he's barefoot. 

  "Babe?"

  Steve squints and raises an eyebrow, "Yeah?"

  "Where are your shoes?"

  "At the house."

  "Oh, okay."

* * *

 

  "McDonald's?" Billy asks suddenly, already pulling into the turn lane. Steve shrugs and turns the radio down. They swing into the drive-thru line and Billy groans at the line.

  "What's wrong?" Steve asks and Billy gestures towards the crowd of cars in front of them. 

  "It's a fuckin' zoo. Inside doesn't look much better either." He huffs and turns the radio back up, some rock band Steve doesn't know is playing. They inch through the line until Billy finally is able to talk to someone. He gives whatever suffering teenager is on the mic their rder, and it isn't ong before they're tearing out of the paking lot and back on the way home. Steve is already digging into his fries.

  "Man, hospital food fucking sucks. I could live off of McDonald's fries," Steve says around a mouth full of food, and Billy laughs. 

  "First of all, yeah, that was a sorry excuse for a hamburger. And second, not to be your dad or anything but don't fuckin' talk with food in your mouth," Billy replies and pulls into their driveway. He shuts the Camaro off and steps out, searching for his house key in his jacket. Steve gets out with the food and bends down to greet one of their seven cats. Billy hears him talking softly to her and he finally fishes out the key. They walk around to the front porch and Billy unlocks the door, kicking it open. He throws a glance at their bathroom and realizes he didn't clean it up before leaving. He shuts the door quickly and hopes Steve doesn't notice.

  "Uff, I'm glad I'm home," Steve says and collapses on their couch. He turns the TV on and some eighties movie is playing. Billy nods and heads to the kitchen in search of a beer. He knows he really shouldn't be day-drinking, even if it's just one beer, but he figures this could count as an exception. He figures he should call Nancy. He sticks his head back in the living room to tell Steve he's going to their back porch for a cigarette, and Steve just waves him off like it's just another day.

  Nancy's phone rings once, twice, three times before being picked up.

   _"Billy? What's up?"_

"Yeah, okay, so, umm, I have news regarding Steve," he says, fumbling over how exactly to tell her.

   _"Is he okay? Please tell me he didn't do anything stupid,"_ she says and she sounds worried, but Billy can't blame her.

  "Well, I don't really know how to sugarcoat things, so I"m gonna be straight up. Steve tried to slit his wrists four days ago," he hears her gasp and the sound of something dropping, so he hurries to finish, "We just got home from the hospital, and he seems to be okay. I just didn't know if you wanted to come over or whatever. You don't have to, I just figured I should keep you in the loop. Or some shit."

   _"Oh God. Is he okay? Oh, well, yeah I guess since you guys are home. Duh. Umm, let me pack a bag and call Jonathon and tell him whats going on, and I'll be on my way,"_ she says. He tells her goodbye and hangs up. He lights a cigarette and is suddenly grateful that he called Nancy. Billy wonders if she'll be able to get anything out of Steve, since it appears that he can't. He inhales for too long and coughs up a lung, his eyes watering. 

  It doesn't take long for him to finish and he lights another one, fully aware that he's doing some minor chainsmoking. Oh well, he figures that things like this are ignored in stressful times.

  It's a long time before he goes back inside, and he's burned through four cigarettes. At this rate, he'll have to go buy another pack tonight. He wants to stay outside and watch the birds, but he knows he's got to take care of Steve. And maybe clean the bathroom before Nancy gets here.

  "Hey, you're back!" Steve greets him and waves his hand in a somewhat-deformed come hither motion. Billy walks quietly to the couch and motions for Steve to move over. He sits down and pulls Steve into his lap, both of them in a combined lotus position. Sometimes he wonders how Steve manages to cram himself into his lap, given that Billy is the shorter of the two. He nuzzles his face into the crook of Steve's neck and lightly kisses the skin.

  "Are you gonna give me a hickey?" Steve asks, and Billy can't hold back a laugh. "I'm being serious, dipshit."

  "Uh, that's a no. I can't just hold you in my lap for ten minutes?" Billy replies, poking at Steve's ribs, causing him to let out a short yelp.

  Steve wiggles and Billy feels like he's summoning the power of whatever God there is to prevent himself from popping a boner. One, he's really not sure he wants to do that with Steve right now, and two, Nancy is coming over. "I mean, I guess so, if you love me so much."

  "I love you a whole bunch, dumbass," Billy replies and presses a kiss to the other side of Steve's neck. "I hate to be a downer, but you know we're gonna have to talk about this eventually, right? I mean, you could have died and I'm sure that was your intention, but Jesus Christ, Steve, tell me if you're upset. Because I don't know if you're just sad, or if it's something I did, or what. And if I have to call one or all six of your kids so that you'll talk, then I will. I just really need you to tell me, or Nancy, or whoever what's bothering you because baby I can promise you that slitting your wrists is not the answer." Billy talks a lot more than he realizes he was prepared to, and he can't see Steve's face, but he knows he's crying. His arms are wrapped around Steve's midsection and he can feel the hot tears land on his bare arms. They sit in silence for what feels like hours before Steve wiggles out of Billy's hold and turns to face him. 

  "I'm sorry I'm an idiot," he apologizes and wipes his eyes with a pillow. He hugs it to his chest and curls in to himself. Billy recognizes it as a defense mechanism.

  "Babe, you're not an idiot. You just did a really idiotic thing," Billy reaches out to run a hand through Steve's hair to comfort him.

  "Are you mad at me?" Steve asks and he looks like he's about to cry more.

  Billy holds Steve's hands in his own and is kind of panicking, "No, no. I'm not mad, but I'm kinda like a why-did-you-do-that irritated." Steve nods, showing that he understands and wipes his face again. Billy feels bad for making him upset, but a colder, blunter part of him knows that Steve has to know that what he did wasn't okay and that yes, Billy is upset with him. For now, he'll just settle with waiting on Nancy's opinion of what to do. Steve has turned his attention back to the television, and Billy recognizes it as The Breakfast Club. They watch together for a short while before Nancy knocks on the door and is stepping in before Billy can even get up to open it.

  "Hi guys."

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ho ho holy shit also i'm bad at updating so yes here it is sorry for anyone that was waiting


End file.
